The Hole

I recently visited an exhibit on Kafka at the Morgan library in NYC. It was there I determined that I didn’t really care much for his work or most of its derivatives.

The hole falls in line with this tradition, finding absurdity in the mundane and leading the reader to question occurrences that have no answer. There are interesting themes involving losing one’s self to changing circumstances—hinted at frequently by the oft-referenced cicadas and extreme deviations to weather patterns.

The titular hole that drew me in, its unnamed inhabitant, and the mysteries of those living in our narrator’s rural neighborhood had no explanation. That left me wanting.